The Forgotten Village
by Erialc Ylime
Summary: This is a 'oneshot' of how Zia spent her last day in Al-Hamrah Makan. She didn't know her life would fall apart that day. Her village crumbled before her. It is in eight-year-old Zia's POV. Enjoy and review! -Eri


**I love the Kane Chronicles (Actually any book of Rick Riordan's) His unfinished story of Zia really inspired me elaborated it in my own way. I hope you enjoy it. **

**-Eri**

* * *

Mama pulled my hair taught. "Ow, Ma!" I cried.

"Dear, calm down." She scolded. "It's almost finished."

"But it _hurts." _I whined. Mama always tied my hair in a long braid before I went to the temple. I don't know why she did. It always came out at the end of the day, anyway.

My scalp was burning and a tear slipped from my eye. "Don't cry, Zia. You don't want your eyes all red when you go for your lesson, now do you?"

"No, Ma." I whimpered. I felt her tie a knot at the end of my hair.

"There now, you are free to go." My mother tapped me on the back and I scooted off the stool. "Don't forget your books and tablet!" She reminded me. I grabbed my school things off of my shelf and dashed out of the hut. "Zia," My mother called. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I turned around to see my mother standing with her arms spread with a smile placed on her lips.

I ran and embraced her. My head buried in the crook of her elbow and she stroked my back. My mother was so comforting. She had long, straight, black hair with streaks of gray that she always kept up in a bun. She was a bit on the heavier side, which, I thought, made her all the more loving. I had my mother's eyes, sort of a honey-yellow color, amber. "Love you, Ma." I muffled into her clothing.

She pushed me back and gripped my shoulders. "I love you more." She kissed my forehead and sent me off.

Red dirt flew into the air as I skipped along the dry, cracked up road.

* * *

My little village was nothing much. We had no special dining places, no shopping centers, just a small little place where you could get a feel for a close-knit community. It seemed out of date compared to the new cities that were being built outside my little world. Sometimes I'd ask about the other villages and my Ma would respond, _"No, Zia. Those places are not for us. We must live simple to keep balance in the world." _One time she slipped up and spoke something about a _Ma'at, _but I ignored it.

My father was quite the opposite, though. He would go into those large villages to sell the special items he found from the ground. Pa and Ma would fight all the time about his coming and going. _"Our daughter needs you here, Kapal. I can't teach her about the life ahead of her, only you know how."_

"_Serai, I can teach her many things, but if I cannot provide food and water, how will she ever live to become a strong magician? I need to go to the outer cities." _

So many things confused me and I realized that all of my questions led to the outside world, the unknown cities.

* * *

"Zia!" I looked back to see Terjki wave to me. He is my hut neighbor and also my schoolmate. He trotted up next to me. "I heard that your dad went away again." He said biting into his apple.

You see, my dad was one of the only men that ventured out of Al-Hamrah Makan and all of my friends were impressed that he comes in and out of our village alive, like some death trap that awaited adventurers outside the village. "Yes he is on a trip, but it won't be far this time." I answered as we walked to the temple. "He promised me that he'd be home this evening."

Terjki made a loud crunching sound as he bit his apple. "That's cool. Does he bring anything back for you anymore?"

"No,"

My father used to bring little souvenirs back for me during the time of good harvest. He stopped when the drought began. Al-Hamrah Makan hasn't had rain in quite a while now and probably won't see much vegetation for the month or two. Ever since then, my father has saved the extra money for water and fresh greens at the big city markets instead of the little gifts.

Terjki munched loudly when suddenly he shoved the apple into my face. "Want some?" He asked curiously.

I pushed his hand away. "No thanks." Though it was rare to see Terjki sharing his food, his apple didn't look so appetizing.

We reached the temple. The temple is our school for all of the children in Al-Hamrah Makan. "Children, please sit, sit!" Said Master Shut. "I see that you all have your tablets today, how about your studies?" Master Shut called our books our studies.

We all held our books high in the air. "Good, good. Now, please open your counting study to page twenty-two." The sound of paper moving rippled throughout the temple halls. "Treesha, Zalky, Marish, please assist the younger ones."

Treesha, Zalky and Marish were the eldest students. They were tall and strong and very smart. Come fall, it would be their turn to work in the fields or follow a chosen mentor for a specific job. I always dreamed of the day I would be the eldest. All of the students would look up to me and I'd know _everything_. And come my turn to work, I'd follow my father as mymentor and finally discover all of the glorious cities I've envisioned the entire eight years of my life.

Marish was in charge of my little group of three. I liked Marish, she was the nicest of them all. She smiled, she laughed at my jokes, she always wore pretty dresses and she was definitely smart. Plus she made learning fun. "Okay, Zia? Can you read what today's lesson is?"

I read page twenty-two. "Mult- eh." I paused. It was a long word that I could not recognize. "Mullipit-tation?"

"Multiplication." She corrected me.

"Multiplication." I copied. She nodded confirmation and I continued on. "Multiplication: To multiply you must repeat addition of the amount of the number by the indi- ind-eh." I stumbled again.

"Can you spell it?" Marish asked.

"I-N-D-I-C-A-T-E-D." I spelled out.

"_Indicated." _She pronounced.

"By the indicated group." I finished.

"Thank you, Zia. Now we are going to play a game to learn _multiplication." _She said.

It was a fun game. She took a bunch of marbles and made groups with the same number, five. Then she had us count by fives. I loved my counting studies with Marish. It wasn't my favorite part of temple lessons, but Marish loved it. We always used fun objects to learn. One time Marish brought cookies in to explain subtraction. Each of us got to eat a cookie and subtract one cookie each time.

"Last Years," Master Shut began (Master Shut called the eldest students Last Years). "It is time for story studies."

Story studies was a time when our group leader would read us stories about the olden days when Al-Hamrah Makan was first built, and it was also my favorite part. We were allowed to eat snacks during the story telling, so Master Shut passed out crackers for everyone.

"As we all know, Terjki's great-great-uncle saved Al-Hamrah Makan so long ago." Treesha read aloud for everyone to hear.

Terjki always bragged about his heroic family. Sometimes I was mad that none of my ancestors were brave like his, but then remember what Ma says about jealousy. _"Don't envy Zia, black magic will turn you jealous for good and never let you be content again."_

Treesha, Marish, and Zalky all took turns reading the story of Tajki the great.

Tajki possessed magical powers that saved the village from being swallowed by some big snake. He fought the serpent with a stick and some clay dolls that he made. I never really believed those stories and neither did the other kids. The only one who thought all of story studies to be true was Terjki. "My great-great-uncle really_ did _beat the evil snake from eating our home!" He cried, but the other kids laughed. I didn't, however. Terjki was my friend and I didn't care how silly he sounded, I stuck by him. From a distance.

After lessons, like always, Master Shut had us thank our tutors. "Thank you Marish." I said, but it got mixed in with the other names the other students called out and lessons was over.

That day I went and found Marish sitting outside the temple. "Hi Zia, you did great reading today." She complemented me.

"Thank you." I blushed. "I want to be just as smart as you when I get old." I said.

Marish smiled and bent down next to me and whispered, "I bet you Zia, that you'll be even smarter than me." She patted my head and stood up. "Master Shut and I expect great things from you, and I know you'll grow up into a smart young lady. Now run along and have fun while you still can."

I nodded and gathered my books and ran back to my hut. I made a vow that day that I'd never let Marish down. I'd try my hardest at everything I do. I'd accomplish great things.

When I arrived home that day my father was waiting for me. "Pa!" I exclaimed. He threw his arms wide open and squeezed me tight.

We played a little game whenever we hugged. We'd try to hug each other as tight as we could. He would squeeze me so hard it was as if my head would pop off. Then it was my turn to squeeze back. My hugs weren't as strong, though. Papa sat down on the little bench in our hut and pulled me onto his lap. "Oh, ho, ho, Zia. Did you give your mother a hard time today?"

I shook my head. "No Pa,"

"How'd you do in your lessons?"

"Well." I replied. "Did you have trouble in the city?"

That's when I saw a glint in his eye. "I did great in the city. I did so well, I have something for you."

My heart swelled. "Really, Papa, really?" My mouth begun to grin on it's own.

"Hold on, Cornpop." He said.

Cornpop is the name my father calls me, only. No one else is allowed to call me that. The reason he nicknamed me Cornpop is because of the silly activity I did when I was younger.

When I played in the cornfields I gathered the fallen corn nibblets and stuck them in the skirt of my dress. When I got home, I'd run into the back of our hut and throw the nibblets into the fire pit. I watched them turn black and then suddenly . . . POP! It was the best game _ever,_ for a six year-old.

My father reached deep into his bag and told me to close my eyes. "I can see you peeking, Zia." He chuckled his light laugh. I closed my eyes tight.

"What is it, Papa?" I asked curious.

"Hold out your hands and you will see." I did as I was told and felt a little object pressed into my palms.

I opened my eyes to see a little red figurine. It was a red sphinx with the head of a ram. Tiny sphinx charms weren't rare at those times, but a red one is not something one sees everyday. "Oh, Papa!" I flung my arms around his neck. "It's beautiful." I skimmed my thumb over its ruby eyes.

"I saw it and immediately thought of you." He nudged his nose up against my cheek. Then he whispered in my ear. "Someday, I'll show you the city markets. They're big and loud and full of magnificent smells."

Soon my mother came back into the hut. "I hope you're not making promises that you can't keep, Kapal." She raised her eyebrows at my father and began to mix the rice for supper.

Papa scoffed. "I did not say a thing!"

I smirked at my father. "Yes you did, Pa." I jumped off his lap and ran to my mother pulling on her dress. "He promised to take me on one of his trips!"

She stopped stirring. "Not as long as I'm alive. You are to stay and be a proper young lady. None of this city nonsense."

I frowned. "Fine, only 'till I become a Last Year, then I will go with Papa." I decided.

My mother laughed. "Whatever you say, Zia." She sighed and filled our cups with fresh water from the city.

As we ate our rice Papa picked up the tiny little sphinx and examined it. "The seller told me that it brings great luck." He said. He started playing with the red little head, twisting it around and around like one of the fancy jar lids he brought back from the city. The head came unscrewed and a puff of red smoke poured out of the tiny figurine.

My mother, father and I stopped eating. "Kapal," My mother's eyes widened as she tried to gain my father's attention, but Pa was too transfixed by the magical sphinx. "Kapal! What is it? What did you bring into Al-Hamrah Makan?"

My father studied the smoke. He dropped the little statue and his face showed alarm as he whispered almost inaudibly, "A servant of Apophis."

That's when the smoke turned into a solid. It formed into a giant red . . . monster. It was horrifying! Its eyes were the same rubies as the tiny innocent sphinx, but even I could tell, it was not innocent anymore. Its head was a ram's and the body was a snake. It had fangs and horns. Nothing, though, was scarier than the way it looked at me. It glared at me with those evil eyes as if it was penetrating the very depths of my soul, or _ba _as my father called it.

"Zia! Quick!" Ma wasted no time. She pulled me off my seat and brought me to the back of the hut.

I looked back. "What about Pa!" I yelled to her. I turned to see my father grab his special stick from the side cupboard. Usually he uses is as his walking stick when he goes on his long journeys. But this time when he picked it up, the tip of the staff glowed a yellowy-orange color. A magic symbol appeared above it.

"Zia, now!" I heard my mother screech behind me. Suddenly I was shoved into my Cornpop fire pit. Soon reeds came barreling down afterwards.

I was covered in itchy reeds in a musty pit all alone. I could hear the huts next door being crushed and torn down. I heard the screams of classmates and their mothers. I distinctly heard the cry of Marish. Tears overcame my eyes. I couldn't help it. My father's gift was ruining my village. "Mama! Papa!" I yelled., but I doubted that they could hear me over everything else. "MA! PA!" I cried at the tip of my lungs. But no one came to me.

I begun to climb out of the pit, but it was too deep for me. My fingernails clawed at the bricked sides, but slid right down. "Someone! Please! Papa, help me! Mama! Mama! Pa! Ma!" My throat began to hurt from the screams. "Mama! Pa! Papa! Pa!" I called some more. I wouldn't give up. "Papa, please! Come! Find me!"

After a while of screaming and pleading and no help the sound of panicking villagers stopped. The monster's grunts and snarls had also come to a cease.

"Papa?" I managed to squeak.

Vibrations echoed into the pit. Vibrations of a monster? No, vibrations of marching, marches of people.

I stood up as tall as I could and yelled the loudest an eight-year-old can yell. "HELP! I'M DOWN HERE!" I jumped up and down and began rustling the reeds.

A man came into view as he bent over my cornpop pit. He looked astonished and yelled over his shoulder, "It's a girl!" He carefully pulled me out of the pit and I hugged the dear life out of him.

I let him go and went back to my hut, or the remains of my hut. "Ma?" my voice wavered. "Pa?"

The man came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry little girl." He looked me in the eye sullenly. "Your Ma and Pa aren't here."

That's when I lost it. "No! No, no, no. It's- no. They're here! I know it!" I shoved off his hand and ran about my village. "Ma! Pa!" I sobbed. "MAMA! PAPA!" I ran to the mutilated temple. "PA! HERE I AM!" I fell to my knees and sobbed. "No, no. Not Papa. Not my Papa . . ."

I felt strong hands pick me up and pull me close. "It's okay, come on."

From that day on, I blocked out all memory of my home. It no longer existed, therefore it never did. Al-Hamrah Makan was never a real place, I never had a heavy set, loving, careful mother. I never had a strong, willful, stubborn father. There were no big cities and I never dreamed of going into them. Terjki wasn't real, Master Shut wasn't real, Treesh, Zalky and Marish weren't real either. I told myself all of these lies so often, I begun to think I was telling myself the truth.

The man brought me back to his home and I began to like him. His name was Iskandar, the Chief Lector of the First Nome. It took a while to get used to the First Nome and all of its customs, but in time I became used to it. I was finally on the right track to living normally again.

That is, until the Kanes came into my life. They changed everything.

* * *

**Did you like it? Please let me know in a review! ;)**

**-Eri**


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